


The First of April

by Ralkana



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: April Fools' Day, Community: trope_bingo, Established Relationship, M/M, Post Avengers (Movie), Pranks and Practical Jokes, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-01
Updated: 2013-04-01
Packaged: 2017-12-07 06:07:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/745163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ralkana/pseuds/Ralkana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony Stark. April Fools' Day. 'nuff said.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First of April

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer ~ Marvel's Toys, not mine. I'm just playing with them.
> 
> Big thank you to Maquis Leader, as always, for her help.
> 
> This story fills the "Wingfic" square on my trope bingo card.

 

Clint and Phil both startled awake as their dark bedroom was suddenly filled with a blinding white glow.

"The hell?" Clint muttered sleepily, and then he yelped, "Jesus!"

He scrambled backward and nearly fell off the bed.

"What?" Phil asked, alarmed, and then he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and almost took a tumble himself. Getting out of bed on shaky legs, he stared in shock at the brightly glowing white wings protruding from his back and the vivid circle of light over his head. He spun quickly around and it all moved with him, appearing as organic as the limbs he'd been born with.

"Is that a halo?" Clint asked faintly, eyes wide in the dazzling light.

Phil's eyes abruptly narrowed. "JARVIS."

"Good morning, sirs."

"Turn them off."

There was the briefest of hesitations. "I'm afraid I can't, Agent Coulson."

"Why not?"

"It appears I've been locked out of the programming for that subroutine."

Clint took a moment to marvel at the screwed-up sense of humor it took to program an AI that not only sounded sympathetic at being unable to thwart its programming, but also vaguely disapproving. Then he shook his head and watched as Phil scrubbed his hands over his face and through his hair, passing directly through the halo without disturbing it.

"Phil, what the hell is going on?"

"It's April 1st. JARVIS, get me Stark. Now."

"He has instructed me to route all non-emergency calls to his voice mail," the AI replied as Clint choked on a laugh.

"He turned you into an angel for April Fools' Day?" he asked incredulously. The wings were majestic, arching over Phil's shoulders and stretching down so that the lowest feathers seemed to brush against the floor. "Seriously? That's... wow."

Phil glared at him. "Then get him down here," he snapped at JARVIS.

"Mr. Stark is currently en route to California and cannot be reached at this time."

"This is ridiculous."

"They're kind of..." _Beautiful._ "Cool." Phil glared at him again, and Clint moved closer, running his hand through the intricately rendered feathers. There was no resistance -- they were made of light, after all -- but they were incredibly detailed. Blinding white with hints of iridescence as Phil moved, they fluttered and shifted just like the feathers on the wings of a bird. "How do they work, JARVIS?"

"The motion sensors integrated into the tower's security system record Agent Coulson's movements and feed the information to the holographic projection and display system Mr. Stark has installed throughout the tower for the purpose of quickly sharing information with the entire team."

"Sharing information, my ass," Phil groused. "He probably installed them with exactly this in mind."

Another one of those tiny pauses. "I'm afraid I can neither confirm nor deny that," JARVIS responded.

"Imagine what he might do if he actually used his time and genius for something _useful._ "

"That's not fair," Clint said with a yawn. "You know he probably planned and programmed this during his break between redesigning the helicarrier's propulsion systems and tweaking the HUD on the Mark Ninety-Two or whatever number he's on now."

Phil rolled his eyes but said nothing, because it was probably true. "I'm going to take a shower," he said instead. "At least there aren't any of the damn display projectors in the bathroom."

Clint watched him cross the room, wings shifting as he walked. He shut the door behind him -- a little too firmly, Clint thought with a grin -- and the wings and halo seemed to shimmer out of existence just before the door closed. Clint hurried over and pulled the door open.

He'd caught Phil in the process of pulling his t-shirt off his wingless back and over his haloless head. He glanced at Clint inquisitively.

"Just checking," he said with a grin, and Phil frowned at him. "You are the world's grumpiest angel, babe."

He hurriedly shut the door before Phil threw something at him.

 

**~ ~ ~ ~ ~**

 

Clint glanced up from where he was sitting on the bed when the bathroom door eased open. Phil walked out naked, towel in hand, and Clint's breath caught in his throat as the wings and halo winked into existence.

It wasn't exactly unusual for the sight of Phil to make him breathless -- especially when he was naked -- but now, with the beauty of the pure, clean light reflecting off his damp skin, he _glowed_ like an actual angel.

Phil was beautiful, and even the vividly jagged scar on his chest couldn't take away from that. In fact, it only served as a sharply painful reminder of just how lucky they were that Phil was still here, solid and healthy and whole.

Clint crossed quickly to Phil, nearly stumbling as he blinked back the tears that hit him out of absolutely nowhere.

Pulling Phil into a long, desperate kiss, he did his best not to cling, even though all he wanted to do was wrap himself around Phil and stay there forever so Phil wouldn't ever -- couldn't ever -- leave him again. 

Phil tasted of the mint from his toothpaste, and the clean, familiar scents of his soap and shampoo and shaving gel drifted around them. His skin was cool and damp under Clint's hands, and Clint forced himself to focus on that, calming himself and gentling the kiss until Phil slowly pulled away.

"All right?" Phil murmured, concern clear in his eyes in the light that surrounded them, and Clint nodded.

"Yeah," he rasped before clearing his throat. "I'm just..."

He trailed off as he stared at the wings that fluttered and curved around them, their brilliant light soothing and gentle, rather than harsh and unforgiving like it could have been. _I'm just so damn glad they aren't real_ , he thought, but the words stayed trapped in his throat, unsaid.

There was understanding in Phil's eyes as he leaned his forehead briefly against Clint's, enough that Clint knew he didn't have to say a word.

"Stop staring at me naked and go take a shower," Phil said brusquely. "I'm not going to be late because Stark's an idiot."

Clint laughed and sketched a lazy salute as he headed toward the bathroom.

 

**~ ~ ~ ~ ~**

 

By the time Clint showered, shaved, and dressed, Phil was no longer in their suite, though his briefcase still sat by the door next to Clint's gear bag. He grabbed both, and a query to JARVIS sent him to the communal kitchen, where Phil was brewing coffee and toasting bagels, the wings protruding easily from the back of his navy suit jacket, halo sitting just above his neatly combed hair.

Just as Clint arrived, Bruce ambled into the kitchen from the other direction and stopped dead in the doorway. He knuckled up his glasses and rubbed at his eyes and then just stared.

"Tony?" he asked after a moment, and Clint laughed from the doorway even as Phil nodded with the miniscule hitch in his shoulders that signaled a stifled sigh. The tiny movement was magnified by the way the wings moved with him.

Without another word, Bruce skirted around Phil, giving the wings a wide berth as he began making tea, and Clint wondered when his life had become so crazy that this situation seemed like nothing out of the ordinary.

He suspected it had begun when he'd shaken the hand of a seemingly-unremarkable mild-mannered agent in a dark suit and agreed to speak with him about possible employment opportunities.

Clint heard footsteps behind him and slid to the side so that Steve could get by him. The man was halfway to the fridge before he stopped in the middle of the kitchen and stared.

"What the hell? Phil? What..."

"Tony's idea of an April Fools' Day joke," Bruce said with a wry smile. 

"That looks like a fairly elaborate joke," Steve replied, stunned disbelief in his tone.

"You have to give it to him, it's pretty impressive," Bruce answered as he poured his tea.

"Don't give him any encouragement," Phil said tightly. "Just because he isn’t here doesn’t mean that he isn’t monitoring everything that’s happening. I don't even know how I'm going to -- JARVIS, are these things going to follow me through the building?"

"It appears as though they will only be visible in the areas of the tower dedicated to the Avengers, sir, for the remainder of the day."

"Thank God," Phil muttered as he screwed the top on one of the travel mugs of coffee. The wings jiggled a little with the movement.

Steve was frowning. "I'm not sure this joke is in the best taste."

"April Fools' Day jokes rarely are," Bruce told him.

"It's just his way of telling me he's glad I'm alive, Steve," Phil said tiredly.

His cheeks went pink when Steve smiled and said, "He's not the only one, Phil," before chugging down half a gallon of orange juice.

Curious, Clint slipped his cell phone out of his pocket, wondering if the halo and wings would even show up in a photo. They did, pale and ghostly and even more freaky, and he snapped several more pictures. He switched to video just as Phil turned to him and frowned. The flare of light caused by his movement momentarily whited out the video.

"Put that away before I pull out my taser," Phil told him, and Clint smirked.

"Not in front of the rest of the team, Phil, that’s for private time.” Clint said in a scandalized tone, but Phil just continued eyeing him evenly, so he slid his phone back into his pocket and moved closer. With a kiss on Phil’s cheek, he grabbed a bagel and a travel mug of coffee and handed Phil his briefcase.

“Thanks, babe," he said, his smirk blooming into a grin as he added, "Hey, how long you think it'd take the baby agents to go apeshit if I anonymously uploaded that video to SHIELD's servers and called it 'Agent Coulson at home'?"

His breath left him in a huff as Phil expertly applied his elbow to Clint’s ribs. "You do and you'll be supervising the probationary agents' firearms qualifications exams and nothing else for the next six months. And sleeping alone."

Clint gave him a heavy, put upon sigh. "Okay, fine."

He waited until he was at the door of the kitchen before he added, slyly, "Whatever makes you happy, angel."

**END**


End file.
